“After you, Jensen,” Collier said as he snapped more pictures. “What's up there?”
“It opens into a bedroom just like the one down below. Not much in here, from what I can see. Secondhand furniture, from the looks of it. No one lives here. There's dust and spiderwebs everywhere. Hold on till I check the fridge. Nope, it's not even plugged in.”
“What did you expect? A ghost? Snowden said the man whose name is on the mailbox is dead.”
“If you got all of your pictures, Collier, close it up and be sure to turn off the lights. Snowden said not to touch anything, just take pictures.”
“Just want to take one of the inside of the refrigerator and freezer. Who knows what might or might not lurk in there? You didn't touch anything, did you, Jensen?”
“Well yeah, but like you, I'm wearing latex. Hurry up, Collier. I'm hearing noises coming from downstairs. Whoever lives there is probably getting ready to go to work. We are not supposed to be seen.”
“The guy likes frozen food. There are enough Hungry- Man dinners in this freezer to feed an army. Keeps his vodka in the refrigerator. He doesn't eat healthy. There's not one vegetable or piece of fruit anywhere. Everyone has bananas,” Collier grumbled. “And get this,” he said, opening one of the cabinet doors, “the guy must be addicted to Cocoa Puffs. There are eight boxes here.” He clicked his camera, the shot preserved forever. “Okay, I'm ready. Let's split.”
“Try not to make any noise going down the steps. We don't want to have to answer any questions on the way out.”
The two men literally tiptoed down the stairs. Jensen was holding the door open for Collier when the door to the ground-floor apartment opened.
“You coming or going?” the tenant asked.
Before he could answer, a surly-looking woman bundled up like Nanook of the North followed her partner out the door.
“Just leaving. We came by to pick up Joel, but he said he isn't going into work today. It's a mess out there, buddy, so be careful. Oh, you're going to need a shovel. We plowed all you people in.”
At the tenant's stormy expression, Jensen said, “Look, we didn't have a choice. The city says plow, we plow. Like I said, get your shovel. And you should think about shoveling and salting these steps. Someone could have a serious accident.”
“Hey, buddy, I don't own this dump, so tell that to the owner. I just live here.”
While Jensen was carrying on his dialogue, Collier was uploading his pictures and texting Avery Snowden on what was going on.
“Good work, lads,” Avery said happily. “Meet us at O'Rileys, and I'm buying breakfast. Our bird just went into the Pentagon. Wait for us if you get there first.”
Collier sent off a text that read, Will do.
Chapter 25
I
t was ten o'clock, breakfast was over, the kitchen cleaned, the boys were outside with the snowblowers, and the girls headed to the war room with Charles. They took their assigned seats at the center table. Charles clicked on the remote, and Lady Justice welcomed them with a burst of sound. Seconds later, the pictures of the interior of the brownstone in Mt. Pleasant appeared on the screen. Charles did a running commentary as he used his pointer to indicate what he thought might be of interest, particularly the pull-down stairs that led to the third floor and a close-up of the electric switch, which he followed with a picture of the nameplate over the mailbox outside the front door that read
JOEL JESSUP
in neat block letters.
“Since Mr. Snowden's people didn't have any problem picking the lock, I assume you ladies won't have a problem, either. There is no alarm system, something I personally find strange,” Charles said.
“He's lived in that house for years, and nothing happened. Now, if he acts like he's done something wrong and has security out the ying yang, then, yes, that would be cause for concern,” Annie said.
“He feels safe,” Myra said.
“How many people do you think know his best friend passed away? Probably no one, and if they do remember a friend dying, it is doubtful they would remember the name. I think Mr. OO is very confident and also very clever,” Nikki said.
“Not clever enough. We found him, and the best part is that the man doesn't have a clue that his world is going to come crashing down around him,” Kathryn said.
“So what's our game plan?” Alexis asked.
“This is what I think we should do,” Isabelle said. “Let's round up Jason Parker and invite him to Mr. OO's house. We, of course, will already be there waiting. We bring him in early, work him over, pick his brain so that when Mr. OO arrives, we have it all nailed down. Quick in and out, and we collect from the president and go about our lives.
“One more thing. This might not be the right time or the right place, but my heart and my gut are telling me it is. When we finish up here, I want to give back my gold shield, and I don't want to do this anymore.”
The silence in the room was so deafening, it was eerie. All Charles could do was stare at his chicks in stunned surprise.
“Oh, Isabelle, I am so glad you had the courage to say it first. I have been trying to find a way to say it since I arrived. With the baby coming, I just want to be a mother. I want to spend all my time with my little family. Harry feels the same way. He is trying to find a way to tell Bert and Jack he doesn't want to go to the trials in Hong Kong. He is determined to look after me while I'm pregnant, and I cannot deny him that. We also want to give back our gold shields,” Yoko said.
Alexis jumped in and said, “I made the decision to take Nikki up on her offer and go to law school full-time. If I can, I'll work part-time. Joseph and I talked about it, and we will get married at some point but not right now. Neither one of us wants the gold shields. We want to live someplace where we have neighbors so we can put down some roots. Grady needs me to spend more time with him, too.”
“Jack and I have been talking about this for months,” Nikki said. “We both agreed that after Harry went to the trials, we would also pack it in. That was in the spring, but after Yoko's announcement, right now is looking even better. We had our time in the sun, we made a difference in quite a few lives, and I, for one, have no regrets. But I do want a life with my husband. We're thinking of buying a bigger house with a yard, and we are seriously thinking of adopting. We want some dogs and neighbors we can count on, and like Alexis said, we want to get our lives back. Jack is going to join the firm. We, too, want to turn in our gold shields.”
“There's nothing much for me to say other than that I agree with all of you,” Kathryn said. “I told Bert I would marry him when the cherry blossoms are in bloom. Bert is going to join Nikki's firm with Jack. I'm going to keep trucking for a little while, and we're also going to look into adopting and getting a companion for Murphy. I, for one, can't wait to give those gold shields back.”
Annie was so stunned, she didn't know what to say. She was finally able to get her tongue to work. She knew what she said now was probably going to be the most important thing she ever said in her life. “Please, you all look like you're going to cry. You should be happy that you will be getting your lives back, and each of you deserves that plus more. It's like Nikki said. All good things have to come to an end. I'll be going back and forth to Scotland with Fergus when he has free time. I think I speak for Myra and myself when I say whatever you all want to do is okay with me. Except for one thing. I'm keeping that damn gold shield. I think I earned it. What about you, Myra? If you keep yours, we can make bookends, and you get them one month, and I get them the next month. Joint ownership.”
Myra forced herself to smile, even though she felt like she'd been kicked in the gut by a mule. “Damn straight! I'm with Annie all the way. Joint ownership of the bookends it is. This will give me more time to knit afghans for hospice, like my old friend Claudeen does in Arizona.”
All eyes turned to Charles. “I understand, and I congratulate all of you. I'll be more than happy to turn in my gold shield so you can send it along with the rest. I'll get back to writing my boring memoirs and planning Sunday dinners for you all. I hope that won't change. We're family.”
The Sisters all started to cry. Annie the loudest. “Okay, okay, you can have the damn bookends to send along. It won't be unanimous unless we all turn them in, right, Myra?”
Myra reared up. “No,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I'm keeping mine! I want something tangible in my hand to remember how it all started and how it all concluded. I'm keeping it!”
And no one argued.
“Well, now that that's settled,” Charles said, with a catch in his voice, “let's all get back to the matter at hand so we can wrap up this one last mission and go out in a blaze of glory.”
It took another two hours before the Sisters had their plan down pat. When they returned to the main part of the house, they were surprised to see the boys cooking up a storm in the kitchen, to Charles's dismay.
“Whatever you're cooking, it smells wonderful, but did you really have to use every pot and pan in the house?” Charles asked.
“Don't worry, dear. We'll clean up. Just sit down and enjoy whatever the boys prepared for us,” Myra said.
What the boys prepared turned out to be homemade chicken soup from the freezer, which just needed to be thawed and heated, grilled bacon and cheese sandwiches, and Jell-O that failed to set so they had to drink it out of cups.
Ninety minutes later, when the kitchen had been restored to its normally pristine condition, the Sisters took center stage, first by saying that everyone now knew that the vigilantes would retire after the completion of the current mission. The boys' collective sigh of satisfaction was duly noted.
“Now, this is what we decided while you guys were out there playing in the snow,” Nikki said, an impish grin on her face. “We ran off copies of the plan for all of you, so follow along with us. The pictures are of the interior of Mr. Orzell's house. We plan to get there around noon tomorrow afternoon and will wait for him to come home from work.
“Right now we are waiting for Mr. Snowden to get back to Charles so he can tell us about what time we can expect Orzell to get home from the office. What we want you guys to do is go to Jason Parker's residence, wherever that may be, pick him up, and bring him to Mr. Orzell's house. We'll stash him in his client's, Joel Jessup's, third-floor apartment until Orzell gets home. Nice, neat, and tidy. Everything will be contained.”
“What about the tenants on the first floor?” Ted asked.
“First thing in the morning, before they leave for work, one of Snowden's men is going to tell them they're installing a new furnace and there will be no heat until the next day. They will also give them some money to go to a hotel. Just in case Orzell doesn't leave first, the way he did this morning, Snowden's men will wait it out. After we are all safe inside, they'll stretch yellow caution tape across the front and put a new lock on the foyer door.”
“Who is picking up Parker?” Bert asked.
“All of you. Ted is going to say he's bringing him new clients. Espinosa is going to be taking pictures for a phony layout and say that Ted is going to be doing an article. That should work like a charm because the man loves good press. How you get him to Orzell's is something you all have to work out. We have our own details to take care of. Any questions?” Annie asked.
The boys shook their heads.
“Then we should hit the road,” Jack said. “The temperature is dropping, and the roads are going to freeze up again. Thanks for everything, Myra.”
Twenty minutes later the caravan of cars was gone. Myra closed the door and turned to look at Annie and Charles, her eyes misty.
“Well, that damn well sucked,” Annie said.
Myra ripped at the pearls on her neck and sent them flying across the kitchen. Annie and Charles gasped in horror as a flood of tears rolled down Myra's cheeks. “Tomorrow night, we'll be . . .
retired,
” she sobbed.
The two women clung to each other as they sobbed out their misery. Charles looked on as he wrung his hands. The dogs howled and circled the two wailing women, who ignored them.
“We need a drink, Charles. A stiff one. I think you need one, too, so you can think about your memoirs and how you're going to make your life interesting,” Annie said as she led Myra into the living room, where a fire blazed and the Christmas tree sparkled.
“I wasn't expecting that, Annie. The worst part is, I can't blame them. They're young. They deserve to get on with their lives. I guess I even knew it was coming. I just didn't expect it to be this soon. Did you? What's taking Charles so long with our drinks?”
“I think he's picking up your pearls. You really made a statement, Myra, when you snatched those pearls and flung them across the room. Did that help? Do you feel better yet, Myra?”
“About as good as you felt that day you got your ass tattooed. You weren't expecting the pain, and I sure as hell wasn't. You're right, Annie. This really, really sucks.”
“There is a bright spot. Yoko is going to have a baby, and I do think Nikki and Jack will follow through and adopt. Lizzie, Cosmo, and Little Jack are coming for Christmas, so we have that to look forward to.”
Myra sniffled. “It's not the same thing, and you damn well know it, Annie. I must say you are taking this rather well.”
“We don't have a choice, Myra. If we try to interfere, try to coax them to stay, they'll end up hating us. You like to knit. I'm sure we'll find some other interests to take up our time.”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire!” Myra blubbered.
“Oh, good, here's Charles with our drinks. What should we drink to, Myra?”
“Our new lives!” Myra wailed.
Charles set the drinks down on the coffee table and ran from the room. He was so choked up, he was afraid that he was going to burst into tears himself. He must really be getting old, or else he just didn't realize how stupid he was. In a million years he never thought his chicks would fold and move on. Never. Ever.
A lone tear rolled down his cheek, then another one, until he was blinded with his own unhappiness.